Monday, March 11, 2019

Writing prompts

I've started doing writing prompts, and I plan to post them on wattpad. I'm going to post one of the first ones on here.



I pushed my earbuds deeper into my ears, hoping that they’d somehow drown out the sound of the crying baby to my left. I caught a glimpse of the man who sat across from me. He looked equally annoyed, as he swiped furiously on his phone. A family of four brushed past me, the youngest member stepping on my foot as his family exited the train. A woman carrying a newspaper plopped down in the only empty seat, which happened to be right beside me. She smelled of garlic, so I was grateful when we finally pulled my stop. I gathered my belongings and bolted for the exit. My feet had barely grazed the ground outside of the train when I realized that my journal was missing. I let out a small gasp when I turned to re-enter the train. The crying baby and her mother were gone, as were all the other passengers. My heart pounded as I walked towards my journal. The sound of my heels was the only noise filling the train. “What the heck?” I finally asked, aloud.
That’s when I saw him. He was dressed like any other business man, but I knew that there was an energy around him. I wasn’t sure what he was, but I knew that I wanted to avoid him. “I came back for my journal,” I said, holding up the tattered book.
His eyes seemed to glow as he walked towards me. He was a handsome man, the type of man who appeared shirtless on romance novels. I supposed he could have taken any appearance that he wanted, since I still wasn’t sure what he was. He had dark hair and a face full of stubble. His lips turned up as he studied me, almost as if he were amused by me. “I came here to bother you for your services, half-angel.”
I heard my journal hit the ground with a loud thud before I realized that I’d dropped it. “How do you know what I am?” I asked. I thought I’d been careful about hiding, but I clearly hadn’t been as cautious as I should have been.
“Please forgive me, Cassandra,” he said my name as if we were old friends. “My name is Noah, and I’m like you.”
“If you’re like me, you won’t need my help,” I said as I rushed toward the door.
Noah seemed to materialize from the air in front of me, blocking my path. “I do need your help, because someone is hunting us.”

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